Delicate
by minttulovesyou
Summary: Kurt doesn't talk. He doesn't really eat, either. There aren't many things he does, really, and Blaine isn't sure if he can break through Kurt's walls. AU.
1. prologue

**A/N:** ok. i'm sorry if this sucks, i've never really written multi-chaptered fics and i gladly accept some ass-kicking if i seem to forget this or something, because i really really want to write this ok. also, if you see grammar errors or spelling mistakes or anything, please please please tell me so i can fix it. english is not my native language, and i do make a lot of mistakes. i try to get better, though :) also, this is my first klaine fic (not first fic in general, tho) + i already hate so much so omg. :') i love you all ok

* * *

Kurt doesn't like school. Not really.

He remembers liking the idea of high school, he remembers the way he used to look forward to being accepted and loved but he doesn't like to think about it. It only reminds him of the many ways it never happened.

His dad said that it would get better, and while Kurt desperately wanted to believe in it, a cold slushie would bring him back to reality sooner than he'd ever expected. He feels bruised and beaten and drives home with a sad smile playing on his lips.

* * *

Kurt has a yellow jacket.

Kurt wears it every day in school even though yellow is not really _in_ anymore. There's something comforting in the jacket and Kurt likes to close his eyes, breathe and drown into it. He likes to pretend that the jacket protects him from everything bad and ignores the bullies as they walk past him.

A guy walking past shoves him hard and his left side collides with a locker painfully.

Kurt burns the yellow jacket and counts 23 bruises with yellow edges from his skin.

* * *

Kurt isn't sure where he got the courage from, but one day he's screaming at one of the bullies. He's big and red and seems angry, and Kurt keeps screaming because it's so unfair, and then he screams a bit more because it feels _so good_ to finally tell someone. It feels good to have someone to blame.

But then he kisses him. And then he shoves him against a locker. And then the time jumps a bit and it hurts so much Kurt is sure he's being split in two and he screams. And the big, red guy laughs a little and tightens his grip around Kurt's neck and he's hurt and embarrassed and begging…

Kurt doesn't think anyone hears him screaming anymore.

* * *

Kurt scrubs his skin until it's red and tender. He slips under the covers and refuses to cry.

* * *

Kurt refuses to fall apart.

He refuses to fall apart, much in the same way as he refuses to cry, or to give up, or to admit that he feels so horrible he throws up sometimes. He refuses to tell anyone.

Kurt refuses to eat and wipes his mouth with a napkin as he excuses himself and leaves the table.

* * *

Kurt doesn't really talk.

He might answer to the teachers or his father or Carole or Finn, sometimes, but mostly he just shrugs if someone asks him something. He doesn't know why he does it, isn't sure what he gets out of it but somehow he feels in control. He feels like he finally gets to decide something in his life.

Kurt stops talking completely in November.

* * *

Burt sighs in a sad tone sometimes. Kurt didn't know it was possible to sound sad while sighing, but Burt's sighs are sad. Kurt knows that it's because of him.

Burt asks him if everything is alright.

Kurt bites his lip and refuses to answer. Refusing seems to be the only thing he's been doing lately.

* * *

Burt is sending him away.

He says it's for his best and that it's going to be okay and he hugs Kurt a bit awkwardly before walking back to his car. He waves with a sad smile on his face, and Kurt hopes that he'd change his mind and let Kurt come back home. He wishes he could scream. He wishes he could speak.

Burt drives back home and calls half a hour later telling Kurt that it's alright.

Kurt doesn't say anything.


	2. Chapter 1 - Dalton

**I. Dalton**

Dalton is not really a very beautiful place.

It's made of grey concrete and there are walls around it, and it really kind of looks like a prison. There's a little park in one corner, and a little pool in other but otherwise it's mostly just concrete.

It's not officially a mental hospital, it's more like a place for _mentally unstable_ people to recover without having to go to a hospital. Santana calls it a madhouse even though the nurses look at her disapprovingly.

It's not home, it never will be, but it's something Blaine Anderson has never had in his sixteen year old life: it's a safe place. He doesn't really like to think about his past or life in general, because he still gets panic attacks sometimes and panic attacks tend to lead to the sharp edge of razor blade and blood and tears, and Blaine really doesn't want to get new scars now when the previous scars have finally healed. There's only white lines now, running across his wrists and thighs and he feels proud of himself, sometimes.

Normally, they would have sent him home by now. But Blaine is still in the level three, and he knows that they never send people home if they're on lower levels than four. Blaine, having been in William McKinley for three years, is one of the oldest resident on his floor (floor III, curable diseases). He's watched people come and go, waiting for his own turn and cried every time one of his friends left. They promise to write, to come to visit, to call… They never do.

The levels are simple, and there are very few of rules.

On level one, you don't have any privileges. You're allowed to be in your room alone, but everywhere else you need someone who's on the level two or further up with you. You're not allowed to eat alone, you're not allowed to walk alone, you're not allowed to go to class alone. It's not only because that way you can't harm yourself or run away but also because that way you're supposed to get to know the other patients, or residents, as they want you to say. You are forced to stay in the level one for ten days. Then you can start collecting 'stars' which get you to the next level.

You get one star every time someone checks you and you don't have new cuts (if you're self-harming), every time you eat something (if you're anorexic) and every time you come to the group meeting (if no-one has figured out what your problem is).

Level two is a bit more free, because you're allowed to eat alone if you want to. You're also allowed to watch tv in the group room, walk outside (with someone who's on the level three or four) and go to the bathroom without someone waiting for you outside.

On level three, you don't need people to walk you around anymore. You walk other people around, instead, and this is the part you can't fuck up. If you don't look after people on level one and two and they hurt themselves you're immediately lowered back to the level two and it get's longer to get back to the next level than before. On level three, you can walk around mainly freely, but the staff can still do surprise check-ups in your room, or check if you have new cuts or if you still eat normally… Things like that.

On the fourth level you're almost free. They stop doing check-ups. They let you go out alone and if you ask them, they sometimes let you go to the city. The fourth level is supposed to prepare you to the normal life, it's supposed to last from one month to three months and then you're free.

Blaine doesn't know what being free means anymore and he wants to know.

Blaine is supposed to be on the level four. They dropped him a year ago back to the level one and he's not sure when he'll be able to climb back to the fourth step but he hopes it will be soon. In the other hand, he never wants to leave this place. It's safe and warm and he gets food three times a day and no-one ever hits him and he feels secure. He has friends but sometimes he just feels so lonely. He's really friends with everyone on his floor, but he's not anyone's _best_ friend. While Brittany likes to cling to him he knows that it's just the way she is, and if he'd shrug her off (he'd never do that) she'd probably find someone else to cling to. That's how she works, even though every time someone ditches her she gets panic attacks for weeks, she finds someone else in very short amount of time. Blaine wishes he was more like her.

There's only ten residents on his floor at the moment. They're all on the level two (except Noah Puckerman who stole a fork from the dining room just because he could and was dropped back to the first level and Blaine who's still on the level three), and therefore they all need Blaine to walk them to places. So, his days are usually quite busy, because the people need to go to different places and he has to study and he likes to have a bit time for himself too.. He couldn't say that he's bored. He's never bored.

They're all his friends, yes. Depressed, snappy and mean Santana who only ever really talks to Brittany, a tall, blonde girl with separation anxiety, kleptomaniac Noah who wants to be called as Puck, anorexic girls Quinn and Rachel who seems to be normal most of the time but who curls up in a ball and just stops eating for days claiming that no-one loves her because she doesn't have enough self-control, Mercedes who can't stand anyone touching her, Tina who tried to kill herself when she was twelve and has been moved around since then and Mike who seems to believe that he's still in an average high school. They're all his friends, and he loves them all, even Santana who likes to hate on everything he says, and Rachel who sometimes gets really mean if she doesn't get what she wants. They're all just really, really broken people with really, really broken heart, just like Blaine himself - and who is he to judge people when they can't even control themselves?

Sunday is the day off. The only compulsory thing is dinner, and even that can be whenever you want (from four o'clock to seven o'clock, that is). On Sundays people usually spend their time in the group room watching tv or playing board games or just talking, but you can also just spend the day in your room and read or study or do what you want.

Every third Sunday you're allowed to have quests over. Quests are not allowed to bring sharp objects with them, or food, or many other things.

Blaine can't remember when he last time had someone over. He'd rather not think about it.

Dalton doesn't usually receive new patients in the middle of the year. They say that it's better if they don't have to adjust when everyone knows each other and they don't have that much spare time in the middle of a school year anyway. Sometimes they accept people, though. People like Rachel, and Blaine. Blaine remembers being sent to Dalton in November and accepted straight away, but maybe it had something to do with the bruises on his face and the way he refused to look at anyone and got the worst panic attack he'd ever had when one of the nurses tried to touch his hand. Maybe.

So, it's a bit of a surprise when after Mr. Schue one day claps his hands and calls "Listen up, class!" (he prefers saying "class" instead of "group" because he thinks it makes it seem more like a normal class instead of a 'madhouse', quoting Santana who can't quite hide her smile) he - instead of telling them what song they're going to sing this week - (Mr. Schue believes in music's magic and while most of the group don't really bother with it, Blaine, Rachel and Quinn really love it and practically fight over the solos even though they don't have anyone to perform to) claps his hands again with a big smile.

"Guys, you're going to be getting a new classmate next week!"

There's a complete silence for a while, - Rachel sitting with her mouth open, Blaine continuing playing with the sleeve of his shirt and Brittany and Santana combing each other's hair - until Mercedes breaks it.

"A what?! I thought they wouldn't be changing the groups anymore! It's almost January, Mr. Schue, I-"

"Mercedes", he says with a warning tone. "Kurt has been through a lot of rough stuff, like all of you, and the very last he needs is a group with that attitude". Mercedes hangs her head but looks still defiant, and Blaine can't help but snort. Mercedes can act like a little child sometimes, and this is one of those times.

"Anyway", Mr. Schue continues. "I was thinking that maybe one of you could maybe try and make him feel welcome here. Anyone?"

Blaine raises his hand.


	3. Chapter 2 - Kurt

**a/n: okay, so i'm sorry if this is already shit. i struggle with things like this, so please forgive me. :') also a big thank you for the review(s), i really do appreciate them 3.**

* * *

The new boy arrives in Monday.

He's quite small, thin boy with piercing blue eyes (Blaine knows that they're blue even though the boy won't look anyone in the eyes) and a bit too big jacket hanging loosely on his shoulders. The jacket is dark blue and looks like it's wool, and by the way his shoes and a bit too big black scarf match with it, it's clear that this boy knows how to dress himself. He has a big, black suitcase with him, and a bag that seems to be full of clothes, books and something that looks like make-up (Blaine almost raises his left eyebrow interrogatively but decides against it). The boys, - Kurt's -, front hair is styled into a kind-of quiff and Blaine kind of thinks that he's a very, very beautiful boy.

Blaine offers his hand and smiles when the boy takes it shyly.  
"I'm Blaine Anderson, and I'm on your floor so I thought I could as well show you places and help you unpacking and stuff", he says and Kurt looks at him slowly, before nodding with a barely-even-there-smile.  
Blaine smiles back.

* * *

It appears that when Mr. Schue said that Kurt Hummel doesn't speak, he was actually serious. No matter how hard Blaine tries to keep up a conversation, talk about the weather, the place, the teachers, food, anything, the boy remains silent, biting at his bottom lip. Eventually Blaine stops trying, just leads the boy to his room and volunteers to help him unpacking. The boy looks at him for a long while from his bed, and Blaine can't help but squirm a little.  
"If you'd rather, uh, keep your space, you can do it alone, of course, I totally understand, I just thought  
that I could help", Blaine babbles rather helplessly, and he can almost see a small smile playing on the boy's lips as he nods slowly.

As the boy rises from the bed, walking towards the small closet in a corner of the room (the one opposite the window) Blaine can't help noticing that he's a bit taller than he is (most of the people are) even though he looks so small. He guesses it's because he's so thin and delicate. He guesses that Mr. Schue was right about the thing of him not eating too.

They spend the evening in a rather awkward silence, and once they're done unpacking (Blaine is amazed at how many clothes he has been able to fit in such a small space) Blaine sits on the boy's bed, unsure and awkward and playing with his fingers. He doesn't want to leave yet, because he promised to Mr. Schue that he'd take care of Kurt… So he asks Kurt if he wants coffee.

Kurt nods. Blaine sighs in relief.

* * *

It smells too clean in the small cafeteria, and they sit in silence in a small table made of a clean white wood. Kurt plays with his spoon and takes careful little sips of his coffee at times, keeping his eyes locked in the grey wall.  
"It's not as good as it's _outside_, huh?" Blaine says playfully, earning a little shrug from Kurt. He continues playing with the spoon, refusing to meet Blaine's eyes and focusing on the coffee instead.  
It's quiet for a long while. Blaine sighs. The clock ticks. Kurt's spoon makes contact with the material of the mug and creates a little sound.

In the halfway of the second hour Blaine stops trying. It's tiring and frustrating and Kurt just wont talk to him - it's pointless to try to talk and his throat is a bit sore anyway so he stops in the middle of a sentence and drinks his coffee instead. It's bitter and cold and burns, and Kurt still won't look at him.

He's not sure if Kurt will ever look at him. He hopes he will. There's something in those eyes he's already addicted to, the blue fire behind them, tamed but not killed, and there's something in him that makes him look like he's constantly screaming "I'm still fighting". Blaine really likes his eyes.

He likes his face, too. He's got a sharp nose and delicate cheekbones, dark eyelashes and his skin looks so impossibly _soft_ - just like his lips. His cheeks have a little rosy tint in them and Blaine finds himself counting the shades in his eyes before he can stop himself.  
He's supposed to act like Kurt's goddamn friend, someone he's able to lean on when he cries (even though Blaine hopes that Kurt would never cry he's not naïve enough to actually believe that he'd never cry, because everyone cries in here. Except Santana. When Santana feels bad she makes everyone else feel bad, too. He can't really remember seeing Santana cry.) and still, here he is, thinking about what Kurt's lips would taste… He slaps himself mentally and forces a bright smile onto his face.

He walks Kurt back to his room in silence, says hesitant "goodnight" and waves awkwardly. Kurt doesn't answer but nods a little.

* * *

Blaine walks to the dining room the next day with black bags under his eyes and curly hair untamed.

He's not entirely sure what it is, but something in the new boy is strangely familiar, and so, so, so interesting. If they were normal people in a normal high school, Blaine would do everything humanly possible to become his friend… But they're not, and there must be hard things the boy dealt with in his life, so he can't possibly be too careful. So Blaine keeps his distance, and sits on the chair on the other end of the table, smiling and waving at the new boy as he walks past him.  
Kurt barely looks at him.

Santana and Brittany are talking about something, but Blaine can barely hear them. Kurt is sitting next to Puck, his eyes glued to his plate as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen in his life. He's playing with his spoon, again, looking rather absent-minded, and Blaine makes a mental note when he realizes that Kurt hasn't eaten anything. He's not making a big deal out of it, though, which makes Blaine a bit curious. He's just casually swirling in spoon in the milky mash in front of him, like not eating was more normal to him than eating, and, trusting to the way he can see each one of his bones, he supposes that's the way it is.

Blaine tries to talk with Mercedes, he does, but finally she sighs and looks at him sternly.  
"You're not listening at all, white boy. You're staring at that new boy and not listening to me and it's a bit frustrating, you know".  
"I'm sorry", he mumbles, flushing just a bit. Mercedes sighs, mumbling something about "young love", and the flush on Blaine's face just deepens, and he looks away quickly.

Because there is something he just can't pinpoint, something in Kurt's tired appearance, in the dim blue eyes and bruise-like black bags under his eyes, something that screams "please save me" and "I don't need your help" at the same time. The signals he's sending are mixed and Blaine shakes his head slightly.

* * *

"So, how are you all?" asks Ms. Pillsburry, the woman arranging the group meetings. She's a small, woman with ginger hair, large eyes and kind personality. Blaine, personally, likes her a lot, and has gotten to know her quite well during the years he has spent in Dalton. Some of people don't like her, though, and Blaine can still remember the deep disgust radiating from Santana when the two of them met for the first time. They did not stand each other the slightest and it caused a bit trouble for a while but eventually, a bit by bit they learned to stand each other, and nowadays Santana is one of the people looking forward to the group meetings.

"Santana? Let's start from you", she says and Blaine focuses on Santana's voice, ms. Pillsburry's notebook and Kurt's nose. The light flickers in Kurt's chestnut hair, in his blue eyes and - oh fuck. Blaine slaps himself mentally - or oh, okay, seems like it wasn't as mental as he thought, because the skin of his left arm is tingling and the people on the room are staring at him. Blaine can feel the blush creeping up his neck, and mumbles something that he hopes sounds like an excuse.

From the corner of his eye, he catches the smile on Kurt's face before it changes back into the neutral expression.

The rest of the hour goes like that. Blaine listens to their conversation with one ear, thinking about a lot of things but nothing really at the same time. He can see Kurt drawing on his notebook, his pen moving quickly and his brows furrowed in concentration. The notebook is pink and black and cute, something he'd imagine someone like Kurt owning.

He's dressed like yesterday, in casual but fashionable clothes. He's got black, skinny jeans and a knee-long sweater, a scarf and ankle length black boots. His hair is made perfectly and his eyes are a bit shinier than they were a moment ago, but it might be because of the sunlight, too… Or it might be because he's doing something he enjoys.

The bell rings, eventually, and Blaine collects his things slowly. Kurt is one of the first ones to rush out of the room, his bag still half-open as he walks out of the door. Blaine sighs a bit, reaches down to tie his shoes - and sees Kurt's notebook. It must have fallen from his bag when he rushed out, and Blaine reaches for it.

He really didn't mean to open it, but as he walks out of the room with his bag and books the notebook kind of opens itself - and well, wow. It's full of unfinished drawings, planned outfits and things like that, and he just simply can't close it. He keeps flipping through the pages, taking in the colours and delicate outlines and - oh. There's a portrait. And wow, this boy is talented. The couple in the picture look real, and Blaine guesses they're Kurt's parents. They're smiling and look happy, and Blaine finds himself smiling too. There are a few portraits, more like sketches, and Blaine giggles a bit when he finds a surprisingly accurate drawing of Santana, the expression on her face so bitter that he almost flinches… Then there's a drawing of Mrs. Pillsburry, one of Puck and - oh.

That's his face.

It looks like a photo, and it seems more finished than the other ones. His eyes look like they're already coloured, and his hair seems like it's halfway ready, the shades of brown and black looking way better on paper than in real life and Blaine kind of really hopes he could draw like Kurt. The picture is smiling and he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, too. His skin looks prettier in the drawing, smoother than in reality, and he looks more… adult. His jaw is more defined than the one he sees in the mirror every day, his cheekbones higher and more delicate and Blaine wonders if this is how Kurt sees him. He wonders why it's so important to him to know how Kurt sees him.

He closes the notebook, involuntary, shoves it into his pocket and hurries after Kurt.

* * *

He doesn't get the chance to give it back to Kurt until lunch.

Kurt is sitting in a corner with a book on his lap and a untouched plate in front of him. His eyebrows are furrowed, again, and his long, slender fingers are tracing patterns across the pages of the book. He's so beautiful, and Blaine slaps himself a bit, again, because he has no right to think like that. At all.

"Hi", he says. Kurt looks at him quickly, nodding a bit and clutching his book a bit tighter. "I, um, found your notebook".  
Kurt lifts his eyes from the book, slightly more interest in his eyes now, head tilted to the side and looking at Blaine interrogatively. Blaine shoves a hand into his pocket, taking the notebook out carefully before handing it to Kurt. He nods as a "thank you" and Blaine mumbles a quiet "you're welcome", but doesn't leave.

"I know I shouldn't have looked, but I just have to say that you're amazingly talented at drawing", he says, trying to not sound creepy (oh really, Anderson, as if you could say that without sounding like a creepy stalker). "I, uh, I'm going to go and get food now. Would you like to join us there?" he says, pointing vaguely towards the longest table. Kurt shakes his head a bit, still smiling.

When Blaine looks at Kurt minutes later, he's still smiling.

* * *

There's an incident a few days later.

Blaine has finally convinced Kurt to sit with him in the dining room, on the chair opposite of him. He's nervous the whole time, and no matter how hard Blaine stares, Kurt doesn't eat. He even tries to give Kurt his cookie (everyone loves cookies!) but Kurt doesn't take it, smiles just sadly and plays with his spoon a little more. Blaine keeps talking, not even caring how Kurt doesn't answer. There's maybe no words, but his eyes smile sometimes alongside with his lips, and Blaine smiles too.

And okay, it's going good, and Blaine isn't even sure what happens until it does and it's Santana. It's always Santana, and she kind of shoves Blaine backwards as he gets up and he collides with Kurt, who stumbles backwards and falls on his back, his eyes widening. Blaine huffs a bit, and tries to smile it off, offering him his hand, but he just kind of stares at it before whimpering softly, and Blaine's heart stops.

Because then Kurt's gone. Just like that, running out of the room and to the hallways, and Blaine wants to scream. He gives Santana the dirtiest glare he can before running after him.

* * *

It's already dark when Blaine finally finds him.

He's in a small storeroom at the end of the hallway, curled up into a small ball and sobbing quietly. His breath is ragged and he's trembling, and Blaine can feel his heart breaking at the sight.  
"Kurt", he whispers quietly. The other boy sniffles quietly and lifts his face. His eyes are red and his face is wet, and Blaine has to mentally tie himself to the doorframe to stop himself from reaching forward and hugging him so tightly he'd never be sad again. This is a boy who just got a full-on panic-attack from a touch, and Blaine really doesn't want to push him, not after this (or not at all).  
"Hey. You're okay. C'mon, it's okay, I can walk you back to your room if you want to?" he says, kneeling down and trying to sound as gentle as he can. Kurt nods barely visibly, relaxing a bit and getting up. He nibbles at his finger before offering his hand to Blaine and oh, okay, that was a surprise but he takes it anyway, grasping it lightly. Kurt gives him a shy, teary smile and grasps back.

He walks Kurt back to his room, holding his hand tightly because it looks like Kurt kind of craves for some contact, while still being frightened of some kinds of contact… Blaine supposes it makes sense. This is comforting touch, the one in the dining hall was more scary and Blaine wonders if Kurt dealt with bullies or something like that in his past. He grasps Kurt's hand a bit tighter at the mental image, because no-one is allowed to touch this precious boy with wide and innocent blue eyes in a bad way, never, never again, and Kurt looks at him with a confused expression as he grasps his hand again.

It's almost eleven o'clock already, the hallways are glowing and Blaine stops in front of Kurt's room's door. He's feeling awkward, his legs are sore and he could really use a bath or a hot shower right now, but he collects all the remaining pieces of self-control and opens the door for Kurt.

He's just about to turn on his heels and walk around, but decides against it when Kurt makes a move to shut the door.

"No, wait", he says, not entirely sure what he's doing, and not really caring, either.

"Look, Kurt. I know you're going through hard stuff right now - no, don't worry, no-one told us what happened to you and I totally respect it, you can tell us when you feel ready or not tell anyone at all -, and I know that it might feel like the end of the world - but you know, speaking to someone actually helps." Blaine says softly. The boy doesn't look at him. Blaine can feel his heart beating, loud thump, thump, thump in the silent hallway.  
"I know it sounds like a cliché, but, I didn't talk much when I came here, either. I- my family wasn't really a supportive one and they really didn't like the fact that I'm gay", he continues softly, swallowing thickly at the mention of his family. "And, uh, I really didn't feel like talking either. I just, what I'm trying to say, I know that we just met and this might be a lot of think about right now but please, if you feel like talking, please come to me. I really want to help you. I want you to help yourself."

Kurt says nothing, his hand gripping at the door with his eyes locked on the dark wood. His eyes are soft in the yellow light and he's halfway inside already. Blaine can tell that he's listening, though.

"Please think about it", he pleads. "I really want to be your friend."

Kurt closes the door.


End file.
